


A Holiday at Home

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, but the house full of people makes that difficult, domestic flc, fitzsimmons just want some time alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: Leo Fitz had plans for a quiet Christmas at home with his wife and daughter, but that all changes when Jemma invites the team over to enjoy the holiday with them.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 25
Kudos: 54





	A Holiday at Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shes_an_oddbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shes_an_oddbird/gifts).



> A canon-compliant (ish) Christmas fic for @shes_an_oddbird. I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it just as much!

“I’m sorry, come again?”

“Guests. For the holidays, Fitz. People do that sort of thing you know.”

Fitz gaped at his wife from his spot in the middle of their sitting room. They certainly hadn’t discussed this, and it was destroying his hopes for a quiet holiday. They had only been home for a year and he hadn’t had enough quiet nights at home with his wife and daughter. He’d expected his mum and her parents to see them for the holidays, but the entire team… He glanced from Jemma to Alya, who had a strand of green and red tinsel wrapped around her arm and neck and was dutifully waiting for direction from her mother.

“Why are you mad, Daddy?” His eyes swung over to hers and Fitz suddenly understood why Jemma so often accused him of using his eyes to his advantage in fights. Apparently, it was a genetic trait, one Alya had inherited in spades. “Mummy said  _ everyone  _ wants to come see us. Auntie Daisy, Auntie May--”

“All right, all right,” Fitz said, holding up his hand to halt his daughter listing off people. If he let her get started, she’d be at it all day. “If Mummy says we’re t’ be excited, we’ll be excited.” He stooped down to press a kiss to Alya’s golden locks before rising to give his wife a look. “Even if Mummy isn’t playin’ fair right now.”

He watched as Jemma approached him with warry eyes. He’d have to get her alone later and make it perfectly clear how he’d like her to make this up to him. 

“Alya,” she called over her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around Fitz’ waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “take that over to the mantel and stretch it out for me. I’ll be right there to help you hang it, darling.” 

When she looked back to him, there was a look of triumph in her hazel eyes that simultaneously made him want to put her over his knee and kiss her senseless. He’d have to work that into how she’d make it up to him. 

“Y’ knew what y’ were doin’ by havin’ Alya deliver the news, Jemma. That was a dirty trick.”

Wanting to land a dirty trick of his own, Fitz leaned in and pressed his lips to Jemma’s in a heated kiss and pulled back just as she pressed forward into it. The flash of heat in her gaze as she looked at him was well worth it in his opinion. 

“Seems like Daddy has a few dirty tricks of his own,” she shot back. “I know it was. I just also knew you wanted a quiet holiday, but Daisy’s back and May’s off from the Academy, so Coulson was willing to call off his whatever it is--”

Sensing that his wife was getting ready to ramble, Fitz silenced her with another sound kiss, long enough to draw a sound of disgust from their daughter across the room. 

“Hush,” he called out to her. “One day you’ll have someone y’ want t’ kiss like that and I promise, I’ll be right there t’ tell y’ ‘ewwww’ as often as y’ say it t’ us.” 

Alya simply stuck out her tongue and went back to arranging the tinsel on the floor as asked. 

“She is definitely your child,” Jemma murmured as she let him go. “Are you cross with me?”

“No,” he said, giving his head a soft shake. “I’m not cross. Disappointed, perhaps. I wanted a quiet holiday with just the three o’ us, but considerin’ how rarely Daisy’s home, it can’t be helped. And I certainly wouldn’t dream o’ sendin’ them anywhere else. That’s why we bought this place, isn’t it?”

Their home was still modest considering their considerable personal wealth - restored thanks to a few clever tricks on Daisy’s part - but much larger than the cottage they’d originally envisioned. They certainly had enough room to house everyone if they so desired. 

“I’m so glad you see it that way.” Jemma practically bounced up onto the balls of her feet to kiss his cheek in gratitude, and Fitz warmed through. He never failed to feel that way when basking in such obvious evidence of Jemma’s love and adoration. “This will be a wonderful holiday, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he shot back as she headed over to Alya, who had grown bored with straightening the tinsel and had instead settled on twisting it around her tiny person, “since I’m not the one who’s goin’ t’ call the grandparents and explain t’ them that they won’t get t’ see their angel for the holiday.”

“Fitz--”

“No, Jemma. Y’ decided on guests. I decided on this. Fair’s fair.”

Deciding it was better for him to go before she could persuade him into making the calls himself, Fitz hurried out the door and into the back garden, perfectly happy to hide in their shed-turned-home lab in the hope that Alya and decorating would be enough to bring his wife around to his side of things.

~*~

“Merry Christmas, Fitz-Simmonses!”

Daisy came slamming through their front door, a wide smile on her face and snowflakes in her hair. Sousa’s entrance was far more staid, although that could have something to do with the dozen or so bags he was carrying. Fitz’ eyes went wide as he counted them and he whirled on their friend. 

“Just how long are y’ stayin’?”

“Fitz,” Jemma chided, lightly swatting him with a tea towel as she came around to embrace Daisy. “It’s just through Boxing Day. Honestly, guests are a  _ good  _ thing.”

He locked eyes with Sousa, who helpfully shrugged while the women made their greetings. 

“You know where we’re sleeping?” he asked as he nodded toward their bags. “I’d like to put these down.”

“Sure, this way.” 

Fitz led Sousa down the hall to one of the ground floor guestrooms and nodded him over the threshold. 

“This is y’, or so I’m told by my wife.”

“I’m glad to hear it isn’t’ just me taking direction from the women.”

“I’ve learned it works better that way. Or at least it does usually.”

Sousa grunted in response and started to shed bags, each one thudding heavily on the floor. Deciding he didn’t want to know what was in there, Fitz edged out of the room and went back to the living room to see what the girls were up to. He found Daisy on the couch fawning over Alya and instantly felt any annoyance at their invasion dissipate. How could he be upset when his daughter was being doted on like that?

That set the tone for the next day and a half. Their home was noisy with the arrival of their friends, each arrival bringing a wave of hugs and kisses and holiday greetings, along with an avalanche of toys for Alya. Considering there were no duplicate toys in the bunch, Fitz had a suspicion that everything had been orchestrated with Jemma’s help. He wanted to protest that she would be spoiled, but a childhood with very little in reminded him to hold his tongue. They could teach Alya how to be generous as she grew. 

Despite how much he loved all of their friends - and how much he missed seeing them more often - Fitz had gotten used to their quiet pastoral life. He liked being able to hear Alya playing downstairs when they were up in their study, or hearing Jemma preparing tea in the morning before he’d managed to pull himself out of bed. They were sounds he associated with domesticity, with finally being safe and together after everything that they’d been through. 

Although he had to admit that there was a different kind of joy in the sounds he heard in his home now. Daisy and Elena singing carols in their living room with Mack’s booming voice joining in on the chorus, Coulson and Sousa talking history, and even May’s laugh made their cottage feel full in a different way. It reminded him of their earliest days in the field when things felt bright and possible. Before the world had turned so dark on them.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel exhausted with the constant activity, and he said as much to Jemma one night as they settled into bed. 

“I know it’s not what you had planned for our holiday,” she whispered as they lay face-to-face in bed, “but it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Fitz nodded his agreement. 

“It’s good t’ see everyone,” he murmured in response, “but it’s exhaustin’, too. I know they wouldn’t mind if I snuck away for a bit. It just doesn’t feel right t’ leave y’ with all the work o’ hostin’.”

Jemma smiled at him in the dark and leaned forward to press a kiss to his mouth. 

“You dear, sweet man. I don’t mind if you leave me with the hosting. I invited them, after all. But that’s not the only thing that’s bothering you, is it?”

He nibbled at his lower lip, debating if he even wanted to say anything to Jemma about it. But if she already knew he was upset…

“It’s been harder t’, ah, have adult time with Alya movin’ more. Not that I’d ever regret our daughter,” he rushed to explain, “but I miss that part o’ us. I’d been hopin’ that maybe we’d be able t’ get back t’ that over Christmas. That’s all.”

Her expression softened and she leaned in to give him another kiss, this one longer and more heated than what he’d just received. Intrigued, Fitz shifted closer and wrapped an arm around Jemma, wanting to keep her as close as possible for the moment. He was too tired to do much more than this for now, but he’d never say no to a nice snog with his wife. 

“I promise,” she said when she pulled back, “there’s more than that waiting for you if you can just be patient. How’s that sound?”

It sounded perfect to Fitz. He gave Jemma one last sleepy smile and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

~*~

His opinion changed a few days later as he watched the giant Douglas fir thawing in his sitting room. Fitz still had no idea what he’d been thinking when he’d agreed to it, other than Alya had been bouncing in excitement at the mere prospect of bringing it home and Mack had assured him that it would definitely fit in their house. He’d been right, but it took up far more room than had been anticipated and would require a small ladder to decorate, even with Mack’s help. 

Fitz made a mental note to show Alya  _ A Charlie Brown Christmas _ this year to temper her expectations for the next holiday season. 

He hovered at the edge of the room and observed as everyone else clustered around the tree. Fitz was just ready to slip away to his lab when Skye called him over. 

“Okay, Fitzy. Time to decorate. Where are all of your tree decorations.”

He froze, his eyes automatically cutting over to Jemma. He wasn’t sure why, but that drew chuckles from their friends. 

“They’re down in the cellar,” Jemma said with a soft smile as she took his hand. “Come help me bring them up. We’ll be a while,” she said to Daisy. “There are quite a few boxes to dig out. Make some cocoa? You remember where we put the whisky for the adults, yeah?”

Jemma tugged him out of the room as Daisy nodded and took control of the situation, directing people where they needed to be as they headed down to the cellar. Fitz dutifully followed his wife despite his confusion. 

“We put the Christmas boxes down here? I don’t remember--  _ mmph _ .”

He was suddenly cut off by the press of Jemma’s mouth to his, her lips soft and insistent as she slanted his mouth open. Knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, Fitz eagerly wrapped his arms around her slender waist and held her close, giving as good as he got. He sighed with happiness when he swiped his tongue over Jemma’s full lower lip and felt her open for him. He didn’t hesitate to take advantage, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with Jemma’s as they clung to each other in their cramp cellar. 

Realizing this was exactly what he’d been hoping for as far as alone time with his wife, Fitz took advantage of the moment to slip a hand under her jumper to cup her breast. He kneaded her gently, his thumb finding her stiff nipple unerringly. He tweaked it and grinned against her lips in response to the soft moan she let slip in response before going back to cupping her through her bra. He had a moment to marvel at how she filled his palm and was just about to comment when a heavy footfall on the stairs forced them to break apart. 

“Fitz? Jemma?” Elena called. “You were taking a while. Daisy sent me to see if you need help.”

There was a knowing glint to her brown eye that made Fitz flush and he cleared his throat and turned his face away so Elena couldn’t see. Thankfully, Jemma was better at composing herself at a moment’s notice than he was. 

“Thanks, Yo-Yo. All of the Christmas boxes are right over here.”

~*~

“Did y’ ever think you’d see the day that May o’ all people lead the charge in somethin’ like this?”

Fitz sidled up next to Jemma and nodded out the kitchen window. They could see their former teammates playing with Alya in the back garden. Mack and Coulson had helped her build a snow fort while May and Yo-Yo taught her how to properly pack snowballs. Daisy and Sousa, meanwhile, seemed perfectly content to duck behind trees for what he was sure they thought were clandestine kisses. Perhaps they would be if he didn’t keep reaching up to wipe her gloss off his lips, but that was how things were at the start of a relationship. All the way through, really, if you found the right person. 

He glanced at Jemma just as she met his eyes and grinned. He had no doubt that he’d found the right person and leaned in to rest his shoulder against hers. 

“Honestly?” she asked. “Yes. I mean, she was Robin’s adopted mother in one timeline, so…”

There was a heavy moment when the specter of her first husband floated between them. Fitz’ heart ached for Jemma. He couldn’t imagine how he’d respond if he’d had to see a version of her die. It certainly wouldn’t be half as well as she had. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around hers to give them a gentle squeeze. Her returned pressure was all he needed to lift his spirits, and he leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. 

“Regardless o’ my not expectin’ it… It’s nice t’ see. They all look so happy. It’s rather idyllic, isn’t it?”

He felt more than heard her chuckle against his side and leaned into her even more firmly. They held there for a moment before Jemma broke the silence. 

“It is idyllic. Distracted, too.” He felt Jemma’s head tilt toward him and he looked at her. He found her hazel eyes bright with mischief and felt his belly clench in anticipation. That look meant good things for him. “Care to take advantage of that, Dr. Fitz-Simmons?”

Fitz watched as his wife’s mouth curved upward just so, her hazel eyes darkening ever so slightly. He felt the familiar heat sparking low in his belly and inched closer to wrap around her waist. He let his eyes drift shut just as Jemma tilted her chin up and let out a soft moan when her lips brushed against his. They held there for a few moments, trading kisses that were quickly becoming more heated until it occurred to him that they’d be better off moving. Jemma, brilliant woman that she was, had the same realization. 

“Move,” she whispered with a gentle nudge to his midsection. “If we keep doing this in front of the window someone will realize and will be in to break it up.”

Fitz nodded along, swallowed heavily, then looked toward their bedroom. Before he could say anything, Jemma nudged him in the belly again, causing him to take a step toward the pantry. 

“In there. We don’t have time for what you’re thinking.”

As put out as he was to hear that, Fitz would never deny his wife when she wanted him. Even if it was just for a few kisses. He eagerly pulled her into the pantry and backed her up against a nearby shelf, one of his hands working its way into Jemma’s hair while his other curled around her hip to keep her in place. He felt Jemma’s mouth pull into a smile against his own and his own smile formed. He was a lucky bastard. He had a wife who adored him, a daughter he would die for, and more friends than he’d ever imagined possible when he was a young man. Life was good, and he was going to enjoy it. 

Fitz lost himself in kissing Jemma, refusing to pull away very far even when his lungs demanded oxygen. Although it wasn’t as though he had much of a choice; with the way Jemma had wound her arms around his neck, he wasn’t going very far. If that was how she wanted to play it, he’d be happy to oblige her. Fitz released her hip to slip his fingers beneath her jumper and find the soft skin of her waist. He hummed in satisfaction at the warmth radiating off her and was just ready to let his fingers skim up further when Jemma’s slender fingers closed around his wrist. 

“Jemma--”

“Shh.” She pulled his hand out from beneath her top and turned her head toward the door. “They’re back inside.”

Sure enough, as soon as she drew his attention to it, Fitz heard the dim rumble of voices in the mud room. There was Alya’s high laugh and Daisy calling out to them. 

“Jemma? Fitz? I hope you’re getting the hot cocoa ready! Wait--”

Knowing what was coming next, Fitz just managed to step back and turn away from his wife to busy himself with pretending to look through the shelves. 

“Marshmallows, marshmallows,” he mumbled to himself as though he’d been looking for them all along. Fitz thought it looked natural, but the feeling of Daisy’s knowing gaze on his back told him he hadn’t fooled anyone. At least she was kind about it and didn’t call them out like she would have years ago. 

“That psychic link must be expanding,” she teased, “or were you looking for something other than hot cocoa?”

“No, no, that was it exactly.” 

Fitz could hear Jemma’s overly wide, fake smile in her voice and nearly groaned. As endearing as it was that she couldn’t lie, he wished she’d learn. It’d be handy in the near future; Alya was catching on to things far too quickly for them to stay ahead for much longer if that was the quality of deception she was serving up. 

“And Fitz?”

He winced where Daisy couldn’t see him and answered, “Oh, I was just lookin’ for the marshmallows. I know there here somewhere…”

“You mean like right here?”

He felt Daisy lean over his shoulder and watched as her hand reached out to snag the bag of marshmallows off the shelf right at his eye level. His head dropped as he braced for whatever it was she’d say next, and he was certain that she’d have something to say. 

“That okay, Fitzy,” Daisy said as she patted his head. “I’d have trouble finding them if I’d just been making out in the pantry, too.”

He groaned as he listened to the girls exit the pantry and wondered whether or not it would be overkill to start a countdown to Boxing Day. 

~*~

“Are we making biscuits, Auntie Daisy?”

Alya looked up at her aunt with wide blue eyes, her little body practically vibrating in happy anticipation. 

“No, munchkin. We’re making  _ cookies _ .”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she looked between her mother and Daisy, then back to the picture of ginger snaps that they were showing her. 

“But those are biscuits--”

“No, padawan. Those are cookies. Cookies are sweet and you have them with milk. Biscuits are breakfast food and served with gravy.”

“Gravy?”

“Ignore your Auntie Daisy,” Jemma cut in with a pointed look. “She’s American and doesn’t know any better. We’re making biscuits  _ and  _ cookies,” she shot Daisy a pointed look, “for Christmas. Ginger snaps, chocolate chip, and sugar.”

Fitz watched as Daisy rolled her eyes at Jemma’s correction but she elected not to belabor the point. Instead, she ducked into a crouch to get on eye level with Alya. There was something about the glint in her eye that put Fitz on edge, but he bit his tongue. This was what aunties were for, or so Jemma told him. He watched as Daisy grabbed a bag of some sort off the counter and hid it behind her back. 

“Guess what I brought with me?” Alya’s eyes went wide and fixated on Daisy’s arm, clearly eager to see whatever surprise she had. “Frosting! We’re going to decorate those sugar cookies, too!”

Alya began chanting, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” and snatched the bag away as she threw herself at Daisy, who easily caught her in a tight hug. His daughter and friend distracted, Fitz sidled closer to his wife and hissed, “Did y’ know about this?”

She fixed him with her steady hazel gaze and smirked. “Of course I did. I know everything that happens with our daughter.”

Fitz sincerely doubted that, or she would have had his head for all the times he’d given in to Alya’s requests for chocolate after 7 pm. Still, it was a turn on when she was that confident, so he let it go. 

“And y’ let Daisy bring that much sugar t’ pump int’ her?” He clicked his tongue at her in mock admonishment. “You’re gettin’ soft, Jemma. For shame.”

He was just ready to tease her further when she pressed up and whispered directly in his ear. 

“Or, I just tricked our friend into watching our daughter while everyone else went down to the high street, leaving us…”

“... free t’ do whatever we want. Brilliant, wife o’ mine. Should we…”

“Not so fast,” she said, taking a step away. “We’re going to help bake a bit first and make sure they don’t  _ totally  _ destroy our kitchen. Then, once things are cleaned, we’ll let them decorate on their own. Plus, you’ll get to eat the broken ones.”

Fitz’ first impulse was to complain about having to wait, but the promise of imperfect cookies was enough to silence him. Instead of grousing, he rolled up his sleeves and let all three girls boss him around. It mostly meant that he was stuck cleaning, but that was fine by Fitz. Jemma also fed him bits of broken cookies as he did their bidding and he’d never been happier to work for scraps. Particularly when he heard Alya’s joyful giggle when she saw the first batch of ginger snaps come out of the oven, or the way she asked Jemma and Daisy to check the way she was placing cookies on the silpat mats. Suddenly, he understood just why his mother always said their holiday memories were her most cherished, and he decided they were well worth the price of a few dirty dishes. 

Just as he was setting the last baking sheet into the drying rack, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a pair of lips press against his shoulder. 

“Daisy,” he said, “I don’t think y’ want my wife t’ see this-- Ow!”

Jemma had put a knuckle in his ribs in retaliation. It hadn’t actually hurt, but had caught him by surprise all the same. 

“Good thing your wife isn’t the vindictive sort,” she whispered in his ear, “and even better that she’s willing to take advantage of your friends to get a little alone time.”

He felt her look back to where Daisy and Alya were frosting sugar cookies and turned his head to take a look as well. Both were so engrossed in their task and he was certain a bomb could have gone off and they wouldn’t have paused in what they were doing. Seeing the same opportunity as his wife, he quickly seized it. Fitz tossed the tea towel to the side and snatched up Jemma’s hand so he could tow her to their bedroom. 

Their door shut with a sharp snap behind them and he immediately backed her up against it, his lips finding hers unerringly. He lost himself in kissing his wife, seemingly faster this time than the times before. He was quickly learning to make the most of the time they had with a house that was packed to the gills with guests. Filled with urgency, Fitz nipped at her lower lip and moved to get her jumper off only to be stymied by Jemma pushing him away. 

“Jemma?” he gasped in confusion. “What--”

“Not against the door,” she said, still backing him toward the mattress. “Not this time at least.”

Before Fitz could question what she’d meant by that, Jemma had taken a seat at the edge of the mattress and had gone to work on his fly, clearly intent on escalating things in a way he was  _ very  _ interested in pursuing. 

“Jemma, Daisy and Alya--”

“Are fully occupied,” she said as she tugged him down into another kiss. “This is the best chance we’ll have, Fitz, and besides, I want to give you your gift a little early. Don’t you want it?”

With her hands on his fly, Fitz’ mind immediately went blank. He wasn’t going to deny his wife if she really wanted to do that for him. After all, he’d be more than happy to repay the favor…

“Mama! Mama, look what I made!”

He watched Jemma’s hazel eyes go wide in panic, no doubt mirroring his own expression, as she quickly tore her hands from the waistband of his pants. They had just managed to make him presentable when their door burst open with enough force to send it bouncing off the drywall thanks to their daughter’s enthusiasm. As Fitz turned, he became instantly aware of two things: his daughter’s hands were covered in bright green frosting and she was headed straight for her mother. 

Moving with what felt like supernatural speed, he caught Alya by the wrists and lifted her up and away from Jemma. Any other time he would have worried he was being too rough with her, but Alya only giggled and begged him to let her go so she could show Jemma what she’d made. 

“No, not now, Monkey,” he said as he set her back on her feet and steered her out the door and back toward the kitchen, sparing only a passing thought for their failed tryst. “Not until we get those hands clean. Then y’ can come back and show Mama all y’ like. I promise.”

That seemed to be enough for Alya, who gladly toddled back into the kitchen blissfully unaware that he was contemplating adding a biometric lock to their door just to ensure he could have at least one more moment alone with his wife while he was still young enough to enjoy it. 

~*~

If he had been told three years ago that he was creating a time machine so he could go back, save the world, and sing Christmas Carols, Fitz might have reconsidered. 

Well, not really. He wasn’t that selfish. And he supposed this wasn’t the worst thing in the world he could be doing. They were all spending time together and Mack, May, and Daisy had decent enough voices that they didn’t sound terrible, so they weren’t embarrassing themselves or anything. Fitz even fancied that he could carry a bit of a tune himself and let his voice lift a little higher on the carols he knew well. And if Jemma seemed to give him appreciative looks as a result, well… He would chalk that up as a Christmas bonus. 

“You can carry a tune,” Jemma whispered to him between songs, her gloved hand sliding into his. “I like it.”

Fitz chuckled and paused in his singing to press a kiss to her cheek. She was already well aware that he could sing, considering he’d done that for her all through her pregnancy when Alya had been kicking and she hadn’t been able to sleep. 

“That wasn’t what y’ thought four years ago,” he murmured back to her. “I seem t’ remember y’ cursin’ at me before finally settlin’ down and goin’ t’ sleep.”

“Utter rubbish. I loved having you sing to me,” Jemma told him with her chin tilted into the air. “I just didn’t love having our daughter using her heels to move my organs out of her way is all.”

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle as he let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll go with that if y’ want, Jemma.” 

Fitz looked toward the front of the line to find Alya’s bright hair peeking out of her cap. As though she felt his eyes on her, she twisted around to meet his gaze and gave him a smile big enough to melt his heart. He watched as she looked up toward May to say something before letting go of her hand and running back to her parents. He was forced to let go of Jemma to catch her around the waist and lift her as they continued walking. 

“Hi there, Monkey. What are y’ doin’?”

“I told Auntie May I wanted to come back here with you and Mama,” she said. “Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her cheek before swinging her up onto his shoulders. “But make sure y’ keep up, yeah? I’d hate t’ see what your mother would do t’ me if we accidentally left y’ behind.”

His words were drowned out by Alya’s loud giggle’s and Jemma’s protest as she slapped his chest, but that didn’t matter to Fitz. The moment was perfect and for the first time since having his home invaded by their loved ones, he felt perfectly content. 

~*~

“Good night, you two,” Coulson said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Fitz and Jemma called good night after him, then sat there in silence for a moment as he headed upstairs to his room. 

“Did you ever think while you were creating him that you’d see him in a pair of Christmas pyjamas?”

“No, no I absolutely did not,” Fitz replied with a soft chuckle. He turned his head to press a kiss to Jemma’s temple before pushing himself off the couch to gather the discarded hot cocoa mugs, collecting them quickly and carrying them to the kitchen sink. He was just about to start washing when he felt Jemma press up against his back. 

“Leave them.”

He froze, utterly shocked by what he’d just heard. 

“Excuse me, miss, but who are y’ and what have y’ done with my wife?”

“Seriously, Fitz. leave them. The sitting room is cleared, that’s good enough. Let’s just go to bed. We’ll be up early enough to deal with a few dirty mugs.” 

He was getting ready to argue with her when he felt her lips wrap around his earlobe, warm and wet and sending a shock straight through him. Fitz nearly choked on his tongue as he startled in her hold and shifted to look at her. 

“Jemma?”

Was she really…?

“Fitz, leave the bloody dishes for the morning. I’ve wanted you alone all week and this is our first, best shot at it. Alya’s sound asleep and everyone else is, too. I swear to God if you make me wait--”

He cut her off with a quick kiss and nudged her away from him and toward their bedroom before turning around to shut off the tap.

“I’m not so stupid as that,” he told her. “Go on with y’ then. Get int’ the bedroom before I have y’ right on the couch.”

That pulled a giggle from Jemma and he shushed her even as he tried to keep his own mirth in check. Hands entwined, they rushed through their home until they reached their bedroom and shut themselves away. They immediately shut the door behind them and Jemma made sure to lock it, drawing another laugh from Fitz. 

“I’ll be damned if we’re interrupted again,” she insisted as she pressed up onto her toes to kiss him even as her fingers started to work on the buttons on his flannel pyjamas. “Get this off.  _ Now _ .”

Not much was said for the next few minutes as they traded kisses and did their best to strip each other down. Fitz had nearly lost himself in the moment, distracted by the sight of Jemma’s red-lace clad breasts peeking out from the open halves of her own pyjama top and the sensation of her fingers curled in the waistband of his bottoms, when something caught his attention. His gazed raked over Jemma once more before catching on her middle, his eyes going wide as he reached out to touch her. 

“Jemma,” he murmured as his fingers curved over the slight swell of her lower belly. “Jemma, are y’--?”

She let go of his bottoms and stepped closer as her hands covered his. Her hazel eyes were dark in the dim light of their room, but Fitz could see enough of the curve of her smile to tell him all he needed to know. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed, giving their joined hands a gentle squeeze. “About 10 weeks, if I had to guess. I’ve been trying to tell you, but--”

“Things have been a little busy.” Fitz tore his eyes from her stomach to meet hers once more. “Wow. Just… wow.”

If there was anything else to say, Fitz didn’t get the chance. Jemma claimed her mouth in a gentle kiss and he felt all of his stress over the holidays fade away as he lost himself in it. All that mattered was the woman in his arms and the life they’d created, and now that they finally had a moment alone he fully intended to worship her the way she deserved. 

He backed Jemma up to the edge of the bed where he finished undressing her before urging her back onto the mattress. He climbed on after her, taking his place between her parted knees and finding her lips with his. He kissed her mouth until he was breathless, and then he trailed his lips lower over the column of her throat and down to her breasts. Fitz lavished eached peeked nipple with attention, savoring the soft sounds of pleasure his wife made and the way she wound her fingers into his hair to keep him in place. He remembered how much she’d enjoyed this when she’d been pregnant with Alya and he pushed his own arousal to the side to better focus on her. 

Only once it was clear Jemma couldn’t take any more did Fitz move on to kiss his way down her body - pausing to press a few more tender kisses to the slight swell of her belly - before slipping her legs over his shoulders. He pressed kisses to the tender skin of her thighs and moaned when he realized he could taste her arousal on them. The dark, musky flavor of her sent another bolt of arousal through him, causing his cock to twitch where it was pinned against the mattress. He allowed himself one brief roll of his hips against it to put off his own need before focusing on her. 

He ran his tongue through her folds and up to her clit, gently flicking against it before getting to work. Jemma had her fingers in his hair again, directing him where she wanted his attention, and he relished each sharp tug on his curls. Fitz loved knowing he could make her mindless with pleasure and he gladly took his time teasing her until she couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Fitz,” he heard her gasp, her voice trembling as she tried to keep quiet. “Fitz,  _ please… _ ”

That was all he needed to hear. He flicked his tongue over her clit one more time before levering himself over her. Jemma’s hands immediately dropped to curl around his hips and pulled him close, causing his cock to nudge against her slick folds. 

“One second, baby girl,” he murmured as he slipped a hand between them to set himself at her entrance. “I’ve got y’, I promise.” 

Fitz slowly pressed his hips forward, a moan slipping past his lips as he felt Jemma open for him. He held still once their hips were flush to better savor the sensation of having her wrapped around him, hot and slick and absolutely heavenly. He dropped his head to kiss her as he pulled his hips back and started an easy rhythm. 

“I love y’,” he whispered to her as he found her hands and drew them above her head, forcing Jemma to stretch out beneath him and pressing their chests together as she lifted her legs on his ribs. The move caused him to slide deeper on his next thrust and pulled soft moans from them both. “More than anythin’, sweetheart. Now, just let me make y’ feel good.”

“Oh God,  _ yes _ .”

They were silent from then on, simply enjoying each other as they moved together in the center of their mattress. The world narrowed to just the two of them, their love for each other, and the life they had built. Fitz felt positively delirious with the combination of love and lust that was swirling through him, and despite wanting to make the moment last he knew it wasn’t possible. He was so achingly close to release the best he could do was grind down against her at the end of each stroke and do his best to bring her with him as he hurtled toward release. 

“Fitz, oh Fitz, I’m so close-- Yes!”

He felt Jemma’s orgasm roll through her, her sex clenching around his prick and taking him with her. He kissed her through it in a weak attempt to muffle both of their moans as he spilled inside her, leaving them both panting and shaking with the after effects of making love. 

Fitz couldn’t say how long they stayed just like that, trading gentle kisses as their breathing returned to normal and the sweat cooled on their skin, but he eventually managed to tip off her. He was quick to bring Jemma with him, settling her against his side as he reclined against the pillows. He hummed in pleasure as he felt her start to trace nonsense patterns on his chest and turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“It’s official. Best Christmas ever.”

“Oh?” He felt more than heard Jemma’s giggle. “Is that so? I thought you hated having people here.”

“Well,” Fitz hedged, “I suppose it hasn’t been so bad. It’s been nice havin’ the team here and Alya gettin’ t’ see all o’ them.”

“I see.” Jemma went quiet for a moment. “What about the year I was pregnant with Alya? I thought that was the best Christmas ever.”

“Oh shush,” he said as he twisted to drop a kiss on her mouth. “Y’ know what I meant. That one was good and so is this one. I have a wife I love and adore and who loves and adores me, our daughter is happy and healthy, and our friends are here. I would say it’s been a very good year.”

“That it has. Happy Christmas, Fitz.”

Feeling entirely loved and content, Fitz let out a little hum and claimed another kiss from his wife. It might not have been how he’d imagined celebrating this year, but in truth now he wouldn’t dream of changing a thing. 

“Happy Christmas, Jemma,” he murmured to her, “and here’s t’ many, many more.” 


End file.
